


empty hands

by LadyNiaLavellan, Lavisyste



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, F/M, Recarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 13:55:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18412007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNiaLavellan/pseuds/LadyNiaLavellan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavisyste/pseuds/Lavisyste
Summary: Maybe in another world, he had told her. Why not in this one, she had asked him, and he saw the sorrow in her heart.Her love was for a begger, and empty hands were all he ever had.





	empty hands

It was once said to her, that in order to make art, one had to open up their heart. It was said she had to open up the window to her soul. It was said that her paintings should reflect her most vulnerable parts - the doubts, the insecurities, the pain. Because in those soft, uncomfortable places was where art began. In that moment, there would be no artist or creation, no interpreter or scholars. One would simply  _ exist _ in their entire being, because a person was not perfect. A whole person was flawed, and open about those flaws, with only fear itself stopping them.

Leia thought it was a nice speech, but she kindly disagreed. 

She wasn’t ready to be vulnerable about  _ anything _ .

Today was the day. The day she would ride the metromover to downtown Val Royeaux. She was actually on the metromover already, and already dreading it. The reason she was going to downtown in the first place was because she needed to visit an art gallery. Presumably, some rich asshole saw her art online, on the personal website she had made three years back. They must have liked it enough to contact her about maybe having a display, or a show. Maybe they’d buy a piece, even. She still had no idea.

Of course, she had her portfolio with her. The large one that contained several originals. Rich people would pay more to have the only one in existence, after all. She had dressed appropriately for the meeting, she felt. She had on a white sundress with white flats, and dollar store sunglasses hung from the neck of the ivory dress. Besides her portfolio, she carried a white messenger bag. Leia liked traveling light, so she only had her wallet, her phone, and her mobile sketchbook, in case inspiration struck.

One could make the assumption that despite meeting with someone potentially important, she had dressed rather plainly. However, she just wasn’t one for fancy, expensive clothing or designs. She was originally from Ferelden, after all. Most of her life had been function over form. Her new apartment in Val Royeaux was indeed beautiful; however, the no pet policy of her studio apartment had her upset for a few weeks. She missed her dogs, and longed to see them again.

She leaned against the back window of the miniature train, and admired the view outside. They were just passing Third Knight Station, where one could best see the beautiful art murals of downtown Val Royeaux. They told tales of ancient fights between mages and templars, locked in bitter rivalries. Andraste, the Bride of the Maker, would feature promptly in many of them, either as stone statues in the background or as a guiding light for the protagonist of the mural.

Even more were abstract, and explored odd places: places affected by The Fade.

They made her wonder, at times, if she would have been happier if she hadn’t been born a mage. She didn’t use her magic at all anymore, not since the… incident that happened during her youth. It made any talk of magic leave a foul taste in her mouth, and a heart that ached for a time where she was not so miserable - before she knew she had magic. As far as Leia saw it, the start of her magical abilities was also the start of her misery. Despite having rich parents who took care of her every physical need, that wasn’t enough to stop her eventual emotional detachment for everything. Lonely with no friends, Leia had no other outlet then art.

 

She could still remember how her hands had burnt at her fire, and the violent thoughts that had drove her to such actions. In her mind’s eye, she could visualize the smoke again, that one damn  _ painting _ \- 

 

Leia shook her head. She promised herself she wouldn’t think on such things anymore.

A robotic female voice announced her stop, and she got up, and left her train. In the process of getting through the crowd on the platform, she accidentally locked eyes with a tall, elven man. In an instant, he caught her hand. He pulled her away from the crowd, next to one of the pillars supporting the roof above them. She eyed him. He was bald, and cleanly shaven. He had a suit on, and just looking it at it made her realize that this man was definitely rich. It was sleek, and well tailored; it fit him like a glove. In one of the sleeves, she could see a brand mark - _ Pavus _ . That was definitely expensive.

Still, she didn’t know him. If they both had the same stop, she could imagine that he was a businessman going to an important meeting, or perhaps he owned one of the many luxurious restaurants downtown. She couldn’t imagine just what of business this kind of person had with her, and it certainly made her suspicious. She didn’t know. What she  _ did _ know however, was that he was  _ staring _ at her, and he softened up like she was his long lost love. Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t interested in recreating an episode of _ Templar & Order _ . Or the  _ Special Victims _ unit.

 

“Can I help you,” she asked, bitter. She didn’t like talking to people in general; due to said lack of parenting and public schooling, she had never developed social skills. With her personal condition on top of that, it was even harder. She wasn’t going to let that stop her from trying  _ not _ to get kidnapped, however.

 

“Actually, yes. You can indeed help me,” he replied softly, and kept _ staring _ at her. She glared in response. The only thing she wanted to do was to just get to the art gallery. Leia was not interested in catering to this man’s potential creepy fetishes, no the matter the amount he could pay her. She had not used her elemental magic since that night, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from burning him in public. Whatever she had to do to get out of this situation.

 

“My name is Solas. I’m an art collector with a galley - it’s called Spellbound Art. I take it you’ve heard of it before?” He asked, and pointed to her portfolio.

 

It was in that moment where Leia realizes she was utterly  _ fucked _ . The tall, bald elf man named Solas, who wore fancy suits and looked at her uncomfortably, was not a restauranteur or a businessman. He was an art collector, and potentially the same art collector that was the owner of the galley she was supposed to visit today. His secretary - if it was the same person - had likely give him a general description based on her About Me section on her website. She knew she had a photo there, so him recognizing her on the train wasn’t out of logical bounds. Pink hair was not a common hair color, even dyed. However, it was  _ out _ of moral bounds for him to have seemingly _ stalked _ her here.

Now, Leia was going to have pretend to be happy to see him, if he was indeed the same man she was going to make business with - withholding her obvious displeasure of him appearing out of fucking nowhere. He kept gawking at her like he knew her, and it bothered her to no end. Leia had never been privy to the type of people her parents had business with; after all, trying to conduct a business meaning with a moody toddler was simply asking for trouble. However, she sincerely doubted either ever had business with an _ art collector _ , of all things. She definitely wouldn’t think her parents would have left some bald stranger speak to their daughter if she didn’t even get to go to school with  _ kids _ her  _ age _ .

 

“There is no need to be so tense.” He chimed lightly, with an amused tone that only served to irk her further. “May I have your name?”

 

She sighed. “...Leia Maheux.” 

 

He smiled. The type of smile of when a hunter had beaten their prey. “And what a lovely name to match your face, Leia. Ah, excuse my manners. Are you indeed heading to my gallery? If so, I would have no problem escorting you there. Two birds with one stone, after all.” 

 

“Yes. Thank you.” She accepted curtly, because she had to be polite. She wanted to sell her artwork.

 

He opened the station door for her, which still did not help in her initial impression of him, and they walked down the stairs. Outside the station, the light had just turned to red, and they cross the crosswalk. It was a sunny day, and still, no clouds had appeared in the spring sky. The streets were busy, of course - cars whizzed on by. Tourist traps were on every corner, beyond the towering skyscrapers that dominated the landscape. A multitude of banners and flags drifted in the wind, a harsh clash from cold blue steel. The giant murals looked even more giant from the ground, almost intimidating. She lived not that far from here, and all the sights and sounds were very familiar. She even thought she potentially recognized vendors yelling out to attract customers to their wares. 

It was all in a poor attempt to hopefully drown Solas out.

As they strolled, Solas was eagerly chatting about all the  _ possibilities _ . She remained as silent as possible. He seemed weirdly...  _ eager  _ about things; perhaps it would have been more accurate to say that he was weirdly eager about  _ her _ . He likely hadn’t seen beyond what her website offered, and yet here he was, already wanting to offer her a permanent slot for monthly shows. He wanted to buy her exclusively within ten minutes of meeting her. Leia had no idea what Solas was thinking, but she was almost flabbergasted. There was no way he didn’t realize just how _ awful _ this made him seem, was there? 

 

“I can even offer you new housing, closer to the gallery. Perhaps transportation as well, if you’d like. I can’t imagine always having to take the metromover is easy.” Solas offered it so casually, and smiled at her. As if Leia wasn’t already suspicious and hesitant to do any business with this man!

 

Admittingly, yes, she was pleased someone enjoyed her art so much. With Solas, however, Leia was getting the sinking feeling this was more about her then her art. After all, while the monthly shows did show interest in her art, a new apartment and a new car showed interest in  _ her. _ But what was she supposed to do? She had to pay her bills and her rent. She did  _ not _ want to go back to her family and run her mother’s company and become miserable.

They finally reached the art gallery. It was centered in one of the rich, corporate areas of downtown. Meticulously trimmed hedges surrounded the entrance, and the smooth stone stairs were immaculately clean. Clearly, Mister Solas had enough money to afford an art gallery in this section of town, and to keep it clean. A fancier looking sign hung outside.  _ Spellbound Art Gallery,  _ it read in cursive yellow writing. The weirdest part about it was the fact it had a six eyed wolf as the logo. Leia squinted at it; she wasn’t sure if she was seeing it right. She hadn’t heard stories of six eyed wolves in what had to be years. The last mention she could remember was maybe in a book she had read as a young girl. It did seem to fit Solas however, with his… creepy aesthetic.

Like a  _ true _ gentleman, he opened the door for her yet again. It was still creepy. Maker, she hated this man.

The concierge that greeted them was a dwarf. He was in a similarly nice suit, and unlike Solas, he did not make her uncomfortable. Instead, he raidated a charming warmth she found was often rather rare in people. He was truly kind, so he felt kind, and she was incredibly awkward. She could tell this man was the chatty, funny type. She was not talkative at all. Still, as he gave a cheesy grand entrance to the gallery, she found herself smiling, and she thanked him.

 

“It’s just my job, Miss. You don’t need to thank me,” he said warmly.

 

“But I want to,” she said sincerely. He smiled.

 

“Well. You’re very kind, Miss.” He replied as he sat down with Solas, who was making a shooing motion.

 

“That’s enough, Varric. Thank you for your service,” Solas said bristly.

 

Leia couldn’t remember the last time she was called kind. It did take her by surprise a little, but she kept her composure. The man who said she was kind was truly the kind one, not her as she waved a goodbye as they went to the desk, where an overworked secretary typed away at her computer. She had a face that looked like she drank about five cups of coffee a day, and only enjoyed one at any given point in time. She seemed a little shocked when she saw her, looking up and down.

 

“Wow. I thought you’d be shorter by your picture - you didn’t look that tall.”

 

Leia could only sigh and shrug. Yes, she knew she was taller than the average elf, and no, she was fully elven as far as her bloodline went. She did not have any human relatives.

Solas moved forward with the tour of the gallery. The floor was green marble, which was a strange choice. However, it did fit the gallery, as the entire place had a strange vibe to it. It was much like a labyrinth, twisting in and out. There seemed to be secrets in every corner and Leia had to wonder if this layout would really be practical for shows. She felt the guests were more likely to get lost then to view her art, or get distracted by the weird… sculptures.

Of the art already in the gallery, it made her upset. Oddly shaped sculptures surrounded her no matter which path they took. She thought she might have recognized some of them from again, her books. Trolls, darkspawn, even a broodmother, horrific and vile, lay in wait around the corner. They casted shadows, and again, it only served to disturb her and make her extremely uncomfortable. What kind of man would want a  _ broodmother _ statue in his art gallery, of all things? There was no way anyone could look at that and tell her the Maker existed. 

Solas was certainly at max creepiness capacity now, but at least the people who worked for him seemed okay so far.  _ Thank the Maker for small miracles _ , she thought.

Then, it hit her. Just like that, a strange looking circular orb caught her eye. Tucked away in the corner, it was contained in a glass container, cushioned by a pillow. For a reason she could not identify, she felt a pull toward it, moving even closer. She thought she heard Solas say not to touch it, but her focus was simply too strong on the orb. She could barely hear him, and gave him no acknowledgement. She knew for sure she had never seen such a thing before, not in books or in stories. However, that didn’t stop the magnetic reaction she had towards it. It hit her again. The voices that were in her head.

 

_ “Maybe in another world….” A male voice trailed off. She could not see his face. _

 

_ “Why not this one?” She pleaded of him, and she knew it was her, because it was her voice. There was no denying it. _

 

The illusion vanished then, only to be replaced with the normal group of voices. Her _regular_ voices, that screamed and shouted nonsense in her head, violence, and worked themselves up into a fervor. Solas moved her away from the orb, repeating again that she should have not gotten too close. It is dangerous, and could cause damage, but it was far too late. His own voice was small in comparison to the discordant chorus in her head. Trying to hide what was happening to her, she quickly nodded, and went far away from that orb. She leaned against the wall, and took deep breaths. She had taken her medication today. She _had_ _taken_ her medication today. _She had taken her medication today_. There was no way this was supposed to happen.

Fortunately, this time, things calmed down as Solas looked worriedly over her. She didn’t want him knowing what was going on. Solas was the _ las _ t person she wanted to know anything. 

 

Leia looked away. “I’m not feeling well. I think I should go home.”

 

“I see.” He sounded disappointed. “I’m sorry, then. Would you like to discuss our arrangements tomorrow then?” 

 

She nodded. “Yeah. Tomorrow should be fine.”

 

“Shall I call up a cab?” He asked but she quickly shook her head. The last thing she wanted to owe this man was money.

 

“No, I’m good to walk home.” She said as she picked herself up and walked away.

 

She left fairly quickly. She needed to leave as soon as possible, so she did. Both the secretary and Varric glanced at her, concerned, as she passed by. Apparently, even the security guards who had been on lunch - one had tossed a burger wrapper into the trash - looked surprised as she ran past them almost. She didn’t need anyone worrying over her, but she needed to just get out of that place. They had her phone number anyways, didn’t they? If he really wanted to check in later, he’d just have to call her.

The late afternoon metro was full of people. Unfortunately, this only simulated what happened in the gallery. But the better part of the afternoon metro was that she could at least know all the people talking loudly were real and normal. A homeless man spoke to a fellow homeless woman about being lost on the road of life, and their next stop. A man in a suit, somewhat nice but somewhat cheap suit explained to his wife, on the phone, that he would be late for dinner. Two young men in school uniforms chatted about their graduation, the summer they would have, and their future together.

These were all normal things, things she was so thankful to hear.

The sun shone down on her back, and it warmed her. She felt her phone vibrating in her bag, and so, she retrieved it. The lock screen showed she had texts from her best friend, who happened to live across the hall. She asked if Leia wanted her to make her favorite meal, since Leia had earlier said she didn’t think she’d feel like cooking today. She finally responded to her friend, saying that yes, she could come over and cook for her. She still didn’t feel like cooking. She felt worse.

 

“Bad day?” Read the text on her screen.

 

“Yeah. Something like that,” she responded.

 

\-- POV Change ---

 

A man was sitting in his office, above his art gallery. He let himself sink into his comfy office chair, as he grinned to himself. He had found her. It had to be her. She sounded, she talked, she looked  _ exactly _ as she did back then, granted, with a few differences. However, eternity would ensure her core had remained the same, and so it would. Gods, he had finally done it. 

  
Now, he just had to make her  _ stay _ . 

**Author's Note:**

> title + summary is basically empty hands by art of sleeping, you should listen to it!! its a good jam! it's a good song, and i love it.
> 
> title chapter is dear fellow traveler by sea wolf. also a banger, def should listen to it!


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